What Happened After
by CHSPatriot09
Summary: Harry/Ginny first time fic. Set after the Final Battle. Rated M because basically the entire second half is a lemon. Not my best work, but I think it's okay. Read and Review please. :


**Okay, so I was feeling in the mood to write, and when I thought about it I realized that I'd never written an "After the Final Battle" fic. So here it is. It's basically just Harry and Ginny's first time together, and it's set after the final battle. Anyways, not my best work. It is Rated M for what I consider a pretty graphic lemon. It's fairly romantic, though, so...here it is. Review please. :)**

Harry's brain seemed to be lagging. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that he was having quite a bit of trouble sorting it out in his mind. After Harry had replaced the Elder Wand in Dumbledore's tomb, he had headed into the Great Hall, where everyone else was still gathered. Immediately, people swarmed him. Cameras were flashing, people were grabbing at every part of his body. Rita Skeeter arrived, wanting an interview.

"Harry!" Rita called, close at his heels. "Harry, just give me one little snippet. What would you like to say to the world now that you have finally fulfilled the prophecy and defeated the Dark Lord?"

Harry spun around so quickly that Rita almost ran straight into him. Her microphone was in his face, and Harry frowned.

"You can tell the Daily Prophet," he began, trying to think of something to say. But he realized that he didn't have anything to say to anyone at the moment. All he wanted was to go up to his dormitory and sleep for as long as his body could physically manage. He'd probably slip into a coma if no one bothered him. "No comment," Harry said. "It's nobody's business."

And with that Harry turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving Rita Skeeter standing dumbfounded, staring after him, her mouth gaping. He left the Great Hall, and followed the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady didn't even ask him for a password before congratulating him and swinging forward to allow him entry.

Harry's feet were heavy as he climbed the stairs to the boy's dormitories. He opened the door slowly, and then walked inside, dragging his feet. He ached all over. He pulled off his tattered t-shirt, tossed his glasses on the bedside table, and threw himself onto the bed that had belonged to him for six years.

"Ow!"

Harry moved quickly, startled by the feminine squeal of pain. He squinted through the darkness, and in the dim moonlight streaming through the window, Harry realized who he'd fallen on.

"Ginny?" he said, surprised and confused. "What are you doing here? Er, in my bed?" Harry felt the back of his neck burn as he realized that he _was_, in fact, in an actual bed with Ginny, something that he'd been fantasizing about for months.

She sat up, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, putting his hand over hers. He pulled it back when it occurred to him that Ginny might not be comfortable with her ex-boyfriend touching her, on a bed, in the dark. "Um, did I hurt you?"

"I'll be fine," Ginny said, eyes locked on Harry's. "I was waiting for you." His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. He was beginning to see her more and more clearly.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Harry realized that he didn't care for carrying the title of _Ginny's ex-boyfriend_. Being Ginny's boyfriend had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ginny made him the happiest person on Earth. When she was around, the sun was constantly shining, even if the weather was cloudy with a chance of thunderstorms.

"Ginny," Harry said softly. "Are you...okay?"

Harry mentally kicked himself. She'd just lost Fred – of course she wasn't fucking _okay_.

Surprisingly, Ginny cut off Harry's thoughts with a whisper. "I think so."

Harry just looked in her eyes. Somehow now, though it was still dark and he couldn't find his glasses, he could see the world extremely clearly. Everything that he hadn't been able to figure out during the last year was suddenly put into perspective. It didn't matter that there were a hundred bodies down in the Great Hall. It didn't matter that there were still Death Eaters that needed catching. The only thing that mattered was that he was with Ginny. Alone. Harry could think of nothing else.

He reached out slowly and touched the singed sleeve of her dusty, bloody white shirt. Half the sleeve was gone, and her skin was stained with blood.

"What happened?" he murmured. "Who did this to you?"

Ginny shook her head slowly and unshed tears glistened in her eyes. Harry was glad when she didn't pull away from his touch.

"Ginny," Harry sighed. He didn't know what to say. Was she just going to sit here and say nothing? Not answer his questions? She was still beautiful. Anyone could see that, even through the darkness and the blood and the ruined clothes. Harry didn't know what to say, but he decided that it didn't matter. He didn't want to say anything anyway. If she rejected him it would hurt, but he'd surely endured much worse over the last year. He'd seen to much death and destruction. All Harry wanted to do was _live_.

Softly, he trailed his hand down her arm, over her hand, and onto her thigh. She was wearing a darkly colored skirt – Harry wasn't sure what color it was in the darkness – black or navy blue. It really didn't matter. The skirt was bunched up, riding high on Ginny's creamy white thighs. Harry laid his hand on her flesh, just above her knee, and looked into her eyes.

She wasn't smiling. She wasn't frowning. Her face was completely expressionless. But, when Harry began moving his hand gently up her leg, under the skirt, he touched her underwear, and Ginny gasped shallowly. Harry cupped her hip and used his other hand to touch her waist.

"Harry," she breathed, leaning toward him a fraction of an inch.

"Yes," Harry said, and his deep voice was breathy, strained.

"I love you," she whispered quickly. "I missed you so much."

"I love you, too, Ginny," Harry murmured, but his words were muffled, as he had begun kissing Ginny with fervor. When had he begun doing that, he wondered? He repeated himself unnecessarily, moving over Ginny as she leaned backward against the pillows. Harry's body was on top of hers, pinning her down. His weight rested comfortably against her body. Her hands tangled in his unruly hair, massaging his scalp.

Harry's hands tugged at her skirt, working it downward. His body was acting of its own accord now, as his mind was completely and blissfully blank. Ginny didn't seem to mind though. She kicked the article of clothing to the floor as her hands moved to the front of his filthy jeans. She struggled with the button for only a moment before it came undone, and then she pulled the fly downward.

Harry choked on the air in his lungs as his erection sprang forward and Ginny put her hands on him slowly. He supported himself on his elbows, bowing his head into her shoulder.

"Harry," she whispered. She sounded nervous. "I...I don't know what to do. I've never done this before."

Harry was shocked. "But Dean said that you two had—"

"Git!" Ginny huffed angrily, punching him in the stomach. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, really, but it didn't tickle either. "I don't care what Dean said. Why would you listen to that idiot? I never did anything besides kiss him."

"Okay," Harry murmured softly, trying to bring back the good mood. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "Sorry I hit you."

"It's alright," Harry told her quietly, and he pushed his hips forward slightly, urging her to put her hands back on him. Harry's breath was taken away again as he felt her touch him uncertainly. Her hands were small and warm. They felt so much different than his own did whenever he touched himself. They felt much, much _better_.

"What am I supposed to do?" Ginny whispered. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just nervous."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Harry assured her, pushing himself away slightly.

Ginny's hands moved quickly to his waist, holding him over her. "I want to," she promised. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Harry couldn't help grinning as he kneeled and pulled off his underwear. He felt heat creep up his neck and into his face as he realized that he was naked in front of Ginny. He looked at her, and she was blushing too. But she was also smiling, so Harry figured it was okay to keep going. He settled himself back over her, and Ginny's hands ghosted over his groin.

"Tell me how," she murmured.

Harry bowed his head again, resting his forehead against her shoulder. He supported his weight on his elbows.

"Just...squeeze and rub," Harry mumbled.

Ginny's hands wrapped around his penis, and Harry couldn't breathe.

"Like this?" she whispered.

"Yes," Harry tried to say, but his voice was so high-pitched it sounded like a squeak. He nodded vigorously into her neck.

Ginny's hands tightened around him, and she rubbed. Harry grunted in pain.

"Sorry!" Ginny said, releasing him immediately. "Sorry!"

"It's alright!" Harry assured her. "Just...do it gently."

Ginny nervously put her hands back on him. This time, it felt completely right. Harry soon felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach, and stopped her.

"Did I hurt you again?" she asked, moving her hands. Harry pressed his body against hers again.

"No," Harry said. "No, that was...that was really good. I didn't want to finish yet, though. I thought maybe you'd want to..."

He trailed off suggestively, frowning at his own awkwardness, kicking himself. He slowly moved his hands to Ginny's waist and gripped the hem of her shirt. She sat up and he pulled it off gently, lifting it over her head with a little help from her.

Harry looked down at Ginny. A white cotton bra covered her small but supple breasts. He reached forward tentatively and touched her flat stomach. He trailed his hands up her body, and – looking into her eyes – gently covered her breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed as a faint blush colored her cheeks.

He bent forward, and kissed between her breasts. He breathed in deeply, and inhaled her flowery scent. How he had missed that. He looked up to Ginny's face when he felt her moving. She was reaching behind her back, and then the bra fell forward.

Harry looked upon Ginny's body with reverence. He ran his thumbs along her pink nipples. They hardened under his touch, became pebble-like. He bent forward again and took one into his mouth, running his tongue over it lightly.

Ginny gasped and Harry looked up at her. Slowly, he moved his face up, and his lips met hers. Gently, his tongue slipped into her mouth, and he moved his hands down, slipping off her underwear and dropping them on his nightstand.

Harry felt Ginny's thighs open, and settled himself comfortably between them. He shuddered with unadulterated pleasure as he rubbed against her opening, and he pushed gently forward. He felt his body enter hers, and Ginny breathed shakily into his open mouth.

She was so warm and soft, and Harry entered her easily. She was so wet that she was dripping. Harry could smell her arousal – it filled the room, intoxicated him to the point of no return. Her body seemed to reject him at first, but he kept pushing, and slowly but surely it accepted him, greeted him warmly.

Harry didn't stop when he met a barrier. He pulled back slightly and then pushed his hips forward. He felt the barrier break, and Ginny cried out against his lips. He buried his hands in her soft, tangled hair.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, even though they'd both known the pain was coming. Harry regretted hurting Ginny, but there was no way around it. He waited patiently, staying completely still inside her, until the pain ebbed.

"It's okay," she breathed, and Harry felt her hands in his hair again. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him softly.

Gently, slowly, Harry pulled out slightly, and then pushed into her again. Suddenly, every sensation was intensified. Her skin touching his; her hands on the back of his head. He could smell her arousal and his own, mingled somehow pleasantly with the scent of the sweat that was gathering on their skin. He felt her thighs squeezing his hips. He tasted the saltiness of her skin. Every sound seemed louder than it really was. His ragged breathing and deep groans, mingled with her small gasps and shallow breathing against his ear.

This was Heaven. There was no other way to describe it.

Ginny cried out at one point, quietly. She sounded strained as she squirmed beneath him. The sound echoed in Harry's head a thousand times over, and he heard Ginny's heels digging into the bed somewhere beside him. The springs inside the mattress groaned dully under the force.

"Are you alright?" Harry panted, slightly worried.

"God yes, Harry," Ginny moaned. "Don't stop..."

Harry panted. "I _love_ you."

Ginny just whined beneath him, clutching his hair still. He felt her legs wrap around his waist, and she thrust up more forcefully than she had been.

"Shit!" Harry heard himself gasp, feeling a familiar tightening in his spine. But it was intensified. This was so much better than when he did this to himself...there really was no comparison to the real thing. "Ginny, my god..."

"I'm almost there, Harry," he heard Ginny pant. He used his hand to push her soaked hair back off her sweaty forehead. She writhed against him, wriggled her hips in a way that seemed desperate.

Harry screwed up his face in concentration and gripped the sheets. _One more minute_, he told himself. _Just hold on for one more minute. Don't be a selfish git about this..._

Ginny gasped and cried out, and Harry felt her tighten around him. He let go, feeling the base of his spine tighten as he gave in to his release. He heard himself panting and groaning, and he came, still buried deeply inside of Ginny.

Their shared orgasm seemed to turn the world upside down. Harry couldn't see anything but a bright white light. He felt Ginny's body beneath his, around his. Her hands pulled mercilessly, almost painfully at his hair. He pressed his face against her neck and rode out the waves of pleasure that seemed unlikely to ever end, still rocking gently back and forth.

Finally, the world seemed to come back into focus, and he realized his eyes were closed and his face was still pressed against Ginny's neck. He realized he was panting, and so was Ginny, and both of them were sticky with sweat as they clutched each other tightly. Harry felt wetness on his face, and it was only then that the realized he was crying.

He opened his eyes and rolled off of Ginny, realizing belatedly that he'd probably been crushing her. He fell on his back beside her, chest heaving, and groped for her hand. When he found it, he held it tightly.

"Harry?" Ginny breathed.

He swallowed his exhaustion and his throat burned as he said, "Yes?" His voice was gruff.

"I'm really glad you're back."

Harry chuckled breathily. "Me too."


End file.
